The Alabaster Jar: Pouring Precious Oil on Jesus’ Feet
It wasn’t the Alabaster Jar. It was the contents of it.
And the forgiven woman pouring out her pure all. With the oil on Jesus’ feet.
The Alabaster Jar filled with precious ointment could be compared to a bottle of Chanel No. 5 or DKNY Golden Delicious. An ounce of which retails for $1 million.
That was the sort of value of the ointment in the jar.
It wasn’t something they could pick up at the biblical equal of Bath and Body Works or the local Young Living dealer.
This ointment was precious. Priceless. Paris Couture classic.
And the woman who owned it was willing, even eager, to pour it over Jesus’ feet to prove that nothing in the world had more value than what she had received from Him.
Who was this woman with the Alabaster Jar?
There is some dispute over who the woman was.
Were there two women who anointed Jesus’ feet, or did the stories all refer to the same woman?
Research of Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible, and supported by other sources such as Bible Hub, we can decide:
“And behold, a woman in the city.” It is not believed to have been Mary Magdalene, spoken of in Luke 8:2, who had not been noticed by Jesus before; nor was it Mary, the sister of Lazarus, who also poured oil on the feet of Christ, and wiped them with her hair. John 12:3.
Mary, the sister of Lazarus, lived in Bethany. This woman with the jar was from Galilee, near the house of Simon the Pharisee, where she found Jesus to show her thanks.
There is also the story in Matthew 26:6, two days before Christ died, which occurred in the house of Simon the leper. That woman poured ointment on Jesus’ head.
But It Wasn’t the Alabaster Jar
It was the contents.
How could this woman, with a renown that “does not seem so well,” afford an alabaster jar filled with precious and pricey nard? The jar itself was cheap, made of a soft stone, easy to shape into pots. Most households had them. Like keeping your Chanel No. 5 in a plastic squirt bottle from the Target Dollar section.
But nard, or spikenard, the ointment that was in this woman’s jar, was rare. It had to be brought from a far country and only the very rich could afford it.
This woman, an outcast, showing such brave faith. Most likely a former client had gifted her with the ointment, but she couldn’t replace it now that she had changed her ways. Yet she broke the jar, emptied every single drop, over Jesus’ feet. She held nothing back. Her entire being was poured out, so grateful to the Man who had given her new life.
And, she did this in front of people she knew despised her. Simon, a Pharisee, owned the house. The distaste of the disciples would have suffused that room, every man calling her a sinner and not worthy to touch Jesus. They didn’t truly discern what grace meant, even though they were eager to learn the ways of Jesus. And one disciple was very vocal with his blame, citing her waste of money. (We know how that went down with Jesus, who knew what the future held for this money hungry man.)
Her immense love for Jesus consumed this woman, and she blocked out all the other spirits that would have kept a less ardent person from passing through the curtain to that room.
What’s in our Alabaster Jars?
Two nights ago, I returned a sweater to a local store. As the clerk processed the return she said, “I couldn’t figure out why it was so busy tonight. It’s Tuesday evening and usually so quiet. Then I remembered that it’s Easter weekend, and they’re here getting their new clothes.”
She and I both know that Easter is likely the one time in the whole year that some of these shoppers will attend church or mass or any other place of worship. I know our Church has the biggest crowd of once-a-year visitors on Easter morning.
And I’m so glad. It shows that Jesus still has an impact on our world. God is still on people’s minds at least once a year.
And if He’s on their minds enough to take them to church on Easter, I’m sure that He speaks to them at other times in the year, too.
That’s all I pray for.
That enough people still know that Easter is special. When they need to go beyond Easter eggs and bunnies and new clothes, they will know where to go. Somewhere inside them will be the Voice that says, “Go to church. Your answer is at Church, at Easter, with the Easter Story.” And then, who knows what will come next…
They just might break their alabaster jars and pour their all out at Jesus’ feet!
The Day I Spilled My Oil All at Jesus’ Feet
There was a day in our journey with autism that brought me to a complete, no-place-to-turn, I-can’t-go-on-like-this END. My adrenaline was used up. I had struggled so hard to “fix” it, but fixing wasn’t what needed to happen.
None of us knew what was going on with Kim, and her despair was eating me alive. She was at a point where her life was all pits, and no cherries. And she didn’t know why she couldn’t fix herself. The things she tried only sent the people she wanted to befriend further from her.
A mother lives in her child. Every mother knows that. When the child hurts, the mother hurts. I was at the end along with her, only I knew she couldn’t fix herself, no matter how hard she tried. But I never knew that even I couldn’t help her.
Until that day. The day I face-planted myself on my bedroom floor and begged God for help. I refused to move from my place of prayer until I had answers. What was going on? How were we to fix this? Where and to whom do we turn?
All questions. The oil poured over Jesus’ feet. And it was priceless oil. It was my mother heart giving her child back to the God who loaned her to us. Which is more precious than any Chanel No. 5 or Golden Delicious perfume. No value can be placed on a child who is part of your heart.
So there was my oil. Spilled all over the floor.
But I didn’t hear God’s voice.
I left it all there – my oil – my heart – my will – my ideas.
I had to leave it all there, get up, and go on. With an empty, broken vessel.
And that’s when we began to heal. Slowly. But surely.
My daughter was in God’s hands, where she had been all the time, and He would care for her in His divine way.
And He still is caring for her. Right up until this awesome day. Because Jesus’ valued the oil of my all that was all poured out that day.
